


loving you, (it's a twice-in-a-lifetime blessing)

by RosePetalsAndRain



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional, Fluff, Guardian Angels, Happy Ending, I promise, Kisses, M/M, Red String of Fate, Reunions, Romantic Soulmates, Sad at First, Sad with a Happy Ending, Seungmin died and became an angel, Sleepy Cuddles, THE HAPPIEST OF ENDINGS, Temporary Character Death, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but chan finds a way for him to fall and become human again, but in a good way, read the beginning notes pls!!, seungmin is an angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26348020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosePetalsAndRain/pseuds/RosePetalsAndRain
Summary: He hadn’t meant to. Really, he hadn’t.When Kim Seungmin had been assigned a human to watch over and guide through life, he really had had no intentions whatsoever of disobeying any rules whatsoever.The rules are simple, really: you must not allow yourself to be seen by any human, assigned or otherwise; no physical contact or conversations with humans; report every single thing back to head office.It should have been simple… really, it should have.But life always has a funny way of turning out, doesn’t it? And now Seungmin is in a predicament that he never ever could have foreseen in a million years.....Alternate summary: Wherein Seungmin is an angel, and one day is promoted to watch over a young man named Hwang Hyunjin. But what happens once he realises that he and Hyunjin actually have a past together?
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 24
Kudos: 133





	loving you, (it's a twice-in-a-lifetime blessing)

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING! There is a description of death near the end of this fic. It's a flashback, and is written completely in bold font, and is not relevant enough to the plot that you HAVE to read it. Please skip this if you're triggered by this: it's not graphic, but please please know your limits and don't read that part if there's a possibility that you'll get triggered by it!
> 
> another note: i haven't marked this as mcd because *technically*, nobody dies. but i wont spoil anything- and with that being said, i hope you enjoy!

He hadn’t  _ meant _ to. Really, he hadn’t. 

When Kim Seungmin had been assigned a human to watch over and guide through life, he really had had no intentions whatsoever of disobeying  _ any _ rules whatsoever.

The rules are simple, really: you must not allow yourself to be seen by any human, assigned or otherwise; no physical contact or conversations with humans; report every single thing back to head office. 

It should have been simple… really, it should have. 

But life always has a funny way of turning out, doesn’t it? And now Seungmin is in a predicament that he never ever could have foreseen in a million years. 

We should probably backtrack… right back to the beginning. 

  
  


***

  
  


“Seungmin,” the West Wing department’s Head Angel, Bang Chan, calls, beckoning the caramel-haired angel over into his office with two fingers. “I have news for you.” 

Seungmin has been an angel for three years now: it’s what happens to every soul once a person dies- but the _catch_ is that all memories and attachments from your past life are erased; and so you become pure once more, and are untouchable by sin. Seungmin knows nothing about his life before he died, and because of this complete lack of aforementoned attachments, he feels no remorse, nor curiosity, about his life before becoming an angel. He is wholly dedicated to his current craft: regulating morals and organising which sins would be sorted into which categories as they’re committed on earth. 

“News?” Seungmin blinks; hair falling into his eyes just a little, but not enough to obstruct his view. “Is it good news?”

“Always good news with you, Seungmin.” Chan laughs and his eyes crinkle into happy crescents as they both take a seat at his desk, surrounded by white walls and glass furniture. “You’re being promoted!”   
  


“Promoted?” Seungmin seems to have a habit of repeating Chan’s words today, and stares in confusion. “I wasn’t aware there  _ were _ promotions in Heaven.”

“They’re rare, but you are one of our rarities, Seungmin!” Chan’s hands are steady as he pushes a file of papers towards the younger. “Most people come up to Heaven and make friends, and get distracted from their work. But you have remained resilient the entire three years you’ve been here, and I’ll be honest, seeing your level of work ethic is absolutely astounding.” He pauses, smiles again. “And whilst this is absolutely incredible- and I’m saying this as a friend, not your boss- Seungmin, you need to have some semblance of balance. You’re not here  _ purely _ to work, you know? You all do enough _work_ when you're alive on earth.”

“Uh…” Seungmin falters, confused. “But I was assigned a job as soon as I got here. There’s not much point to doing anything else than work, is there?”

“You’re in the afterlife, now. You have a whole eternity to work,” Chan reassures him. “Just like humans, angels also need to socialise and experience things too.” There’s genuine worry in Chan’s eyes, and Seungmin finds himself feeling a little guilty, although he’s not sure as to the exact reason why.

“When was the last time you went out with a friend here, Seungmin?” 

Angels aren’t made to feel love, not in the romantic sense- but companionship and friendship are the things that they  _ are _ allowed to feel and experience. Pure, strong bonds. 

Seungmin thinks hard, and the way his brow furrows is answer enough for Chan. 

“The fact that you’re thinking so hard speaks volumes, Seungmin.”

And yeah, okay, maybe Chan has a point, but it’s not like Seungmin had expressly  _ stopped _ himself from making friends. 

Nobody had ever really _approached_ him, that was all. 

Besides- it’s not like he doesn’t  _ have _ friends. He’s friends with Jisung, his deskmate, and Chan too- the man had just expressly said that he was speaking to Seungmin  _ as a friend _ instead of a boss figure. That counts! 

“I have friends,” Seungmin mutters, and Chan chuckles. 

“You need to let up from your continuous work. And it’s for this reason that we’re assigning you to a human.”

Seungmin has to keep himself in check before he chokes. “A  _ human _ ?” 

“Indeed, Seungmin. There’s a human down on earth who… needs a little guidance, let’s say. They’re… not in the best place right now. I think they’d really benefit from your help.”

“But…” Seungmin panics a little, “but- we’re not allowed to talk to them! How can I help when I’m not allowed to make contact? I’ve had no training for anything like this before, I-”

“Seungmin,” Chan gently interrupts, hands coming to cover Seungmin’s fingers, which had begun tapping a nervous pattern into the glass, “I’m going to tell you a secret. Can you promise me that you’ll keep it for me?”

“A secret,” Seungmin repeats again, “yes. I promise.”

“Sometimes, we send angels back down to earth for a reason,” Chan says slowly, enunciating each word with care, “and that reason is sometimes so that we can bend the rules a little, to do what is best. And _you_ have to trust your own instinct on what is right. I’m handing  _ you _ the reins here, and I trust completely that you’re going to do what’s right.”

Trust. Chan… is trusting Seungmin… to do  _ what,  _ exactly? The cryptic nature of his words are really stressing Seungmin out. 

“Trusting me to do  _ what _ ?” 

“You’ll know what to do once you’re there,” Chan promises, “just go with your gut. Your gut is always right.” 

“... Okay,” Seungmin exhales, and glances around Chan’s huge office, taking in the pristine surfaces and glass walls. “When do I… leave?”

“Now,” Chan smiles, and Seungmin does choke this time. 

“Now?” 

“Now!” Chan offers a cheerful finger wave before he clicks his fingers. “Good luck, Seungmin, and have fun!” 

“What-” and then Seungmin is tumbling; the floor disappears beneath his seat, and he’s  _ falling, falling, falling _ . 

  
  


***

  
  


When Seungmin opens his eyes next, he finds himself on a carpeted floor, in a messy room. It’s a bedroom, if the unmade bed is anything to go by; there’s a chest of drawers, bedside desk and wardrobe with one of the doors hanging open to reveal an even messier interior. A few photo frames lay scattered on top of the drawers, and the bedside table has a crumpled bottle of water standing wonkily on it, as well as a phone, plugged in and charging. 

Light illuminates the room from the open window, but there’s nobody in the room apart from Seungmin. He hopes that whoever he’s supposed to be watching will enter soon: is he supposed to walk around? Go and find his ward? What’s the protocol for these things? Chan told him  _ nothing _ . 

The phone on the bedside lights up, and Seungmin looks at it curiously, reaching out a hand to touch the screen and gasping as memories come flooding back to him. 

“A  _ phone, _ ” he whispers, and suddenly he  _ remembers _ ; nothing personal from his past life, but he remembers the apps, the connections one could make on a mobile; you can take pictures and send messages on them. Amazing. 

**_13:29_ ** , the time on the lockscreen reads, and there’s a picture of a small creature on there: a small animal, a dog if Seungmin remembers correctly. It’s tiny, seemingly: black and white, and its tiny pink tongue has been captured, mid-lick, in the photo. 

It’s cute, Seungmin decides. 

“My  _ life,”  _ a voice says, and somebody stumbles into the room, walking straight  _ through _ Seungmin and collapsing on the bed. 

This new person- they’re so  _ familiar, _ yet Seungmin can’t place them. He feels pulled towards them, though: as if he’s known them his whole life. Seungmin’s heart rate speeds up considerably.

The person on the bed rolls over; grabs their phone from the bedside stand and unlocks it, holding it above their head as they lay on their back; their hair, which is blonde and shoulder-length, cascades over the pillow below their head in every direction.

“ _ What  _ a day.” The person groans, and right as they do, their phone lights up, ringing incessantly as they groan again, louder, and press  _ accept. _

“Hey, Lix,” they say, and Seungmin can just barely make out what the other person is saying on the other end of the line if he focuses extra hard. Something about a deadline, and needing to practise, tonight. 

“I’ll be there,” the person on the bed says, and Seungmin can just about make out a quiet  _ I’ll see you then, Hyunjin, _ before the line goes dead and the person- Hyunjin- flops back onto the bed dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the light. 

“Damn,” Hyunjin whispers into the air. 

Seungmin watches as he does this, and wonders what Hyunjin’s been through this morning that’s made him this sad. 

Hyunjin opens his eyes, which were previously squeezed shut, and stares up at the ceiling; Seungmin finds himself blushing at the sight of his chocolate-coloured irises. He’s so familiar… Seungmin’s sure they must have known each other in Seungmin’s past life. Which is suspicious- why would Chan have assigned Seungmin to somebody he previously knew? 

“Wow, Seungmin… if only you were-” Hyunjin whispers, but stops himself mid-sentence, and Seungmin’s eyes almost bug out of their very sockets as he hears his name tumble from the stranger's lips. 

“Me?” he shrieks, but gets no reaction from the boy on the bed. Instead, Hyunjin reaches for a photo frame on his bedside- Seungmin had definitely missed that one in his initial assessment of the room- and cradles it in two hands as he turns over onto his side and places the frame onto his pillow, in front of his face. 

“I miss you so much,” Hyunjin whispers, and Seungmin can see tears gathering in his eyes. Overcome with curiosity- perhaps this is the reason Chan said Hyunjin was in a bad place?- he steps over Hyunjin onto the bed (Hyunjin had walked straight through him before, as if he were a ghost: he doesn’t register Seungmin’s presence even now) and peers over the blonde’s shoulder at the frame- before promptly choking, for the second time today. 

The boy in the picture frame is  _ Seungmin. _

“What in the-” Seungmin falls against the windowsill, his legs giving way in shock. 

_ That’s him. He’s in the photo-  _ Seungmin strains his eyes to get a better look, finding himself unable to move any closer through his trembling limbs. 

It’s a close-up photo; not professionally done by any means. If anything, the quality is almost  _ low _ , but Seungmin is smiling; wider than he was aware that he _could_ smile. He’s wearing a yellow hoodie, and appears to be swiping at the person behind the camera. It’s a picture full of happiness, but it makes Seungmin feel unbelievably sad… perhaps because he can’t remember it being taken at all. He can’t remember a _ thing _ about life on earth.

But- wait. When he touched the phone memories came back, right? Generalised ones, sure: just knowledge of how the device worked, but perhaps with something more personal he could trigger flashbacks? 

Seungmin reaches out with trembling fingers to touch the photo: Hyunjin doesn’t react as Seungmin’s hand travels through his head and onto the frame. 

Nothing. 

Well, maybe it isn’t Seungmin after all? Maybe he just has a doppelganger, and this Seungmin is alive and well. Maybe he’s just in a different country at the moment, Seungmin thinks, as his fingers trace patterns onto the photo’s metal frame. Perhaps-

_ Dark hair, crescent eyes and soft lips. A small cat cafe; a small ginger cat climbing into his lap as the person across from his coos and reaches out to stroke the animal. Giggles, shared drinks and warm hands- _

_ Never mind. The memories must have just been delayed this time... _

Seungmin yanks his hand away as if he’s been burned, and he’s dizzy; so, so dizzy, and his eyes burn with salt-soaked emotion. He’s glad that he’s already leaning against the windowsill, knelt upon Hyunjin’s bed, because he feels his entire skeleton turn to jelly, and he’s crying; he can’t stop the tears from falling as he clings to that one memory. 

It’s just one, but it’s enough. 

And the boy laying on the bed next to him; the one who can’t see him, feel him, nor sense his presence in any way, shape or form-

Hyunjin was Seungmin’s boyfriend. 

Had been; evidently not anymore. But how had Seungmin died, then…?- Hyunjin's so _young..._

It’s not like he could just  _ ask _ Hyunjin. Or heaven, for that matter: he seems to have been cut off for now, for whatever reason.

Anyway.

He chooses not to dwell on the matter any further: the matter at hand here is that he needs to  _ help _ Hyunjin; not mope about the life he lost too soon. And in order to help him, Seungmin needs to figure out what’s wrong. 

Evidently, Hyunjin is still grieving. It’s clear as day in his body language: the way he cradles the photo so tenderly; the way tears glisten in his eyes and he whispers to the photo as if Seungmin could hear him… which right now, he  _ can. _ But Hyunjin doesn’t know that- is Seungmin supposed to help Hyunjin move on? Seungmin can’t remember _shit_ about their relationship apart from that one forsaken memory triggered by the photoframe. But from that one single memory, Seungmin’s entire being burns with protectiveness; a possessiveness from deep in his core. 

If he has to help Hyunjin move on… he might just fail. Because from one single memory, there’s no way Seungmin can just let him go like that. 

_ God, _ Seungmin wishes there was a way to make his presence known to Hyunjin. 

As if on a timer, Hyunjin sits up suddenly, wiping his eyes dry and placing the photo back onto his bedside, picking up his phone and swinging his legs back off the side of the bed. 

“What a day... If only you were still here,” Hyunjin whispers wetly, and Seungmin’s chest aches with longing as he watches the other leave the room once more. 

Should Seungmin follow? He’s at a complete loss: he’d feel creepy following Hyunjin around as he goes about his day, but technically, isn’t that what he was sent here to do? If he can’t learn about Hyunjin, he can’t learn what he needs to learn in order to help him. Conflict makes his chest grow tight with urgency, and at last he tosses the idea of morals out of the window, running silently after Hyunjin on featherlight feet through his apartment just in time to find Hyunjin closing the door behind him as he takes his leave. 

He follows the boy through countless streets that feel so familiar beneath his feet; follows him across roads and makes sure that there are no cars coming either way in order to protect Hyunjin, who barely bothers to look either way before crossing. 

“You have to look both ways,” Seungmin scolds, but there’s little heat behind his words as he knows he can’t be heard either way. 

Eventually Hyunjin ends up in front of a large brick building, and enters; Seungmin then proceeds to follow him up countless sets of stairs before they finally enter a large dance studio: the front wall one huge mirror and the two walls either side having bars set up for stretching and ballet practise. 

“Hyunjin!” a red-haired boy greets, and Seungmin coos aloud at his freckles. 

“Hey, Lix,” Hyunjin smiles, “how’re things?”

“All good, all good. We’re just waiting on Jeongin and Changbin, and then we can get started… is everything okay for you? You look a little out of it today.”

Hyunjin visibly hesitates, but Felix puts a hand on his arm, and Seungmin looks away, feeling as if he’s invading a private moment. 

“I just… Fe, I feel as if  _ he’s _ here today. Like he’s  _ with me _ . I can’t explain it…” Hyunjin trails off, looking emotional again, and Felix’s features morph into an expression of sympathy. 

“Oh, Jinnie… you know that’s impossible, right?” Felix says, gently. “Have you talked to your counsellor about it recently?”

“No…”

“Then it’s probably you bottling your feelings up again, Jinnie. You know you have to talk about it, and not let things build up like this,” Felix draws the elder into a tight hug, and Hyunjin rests his chin on the crook of his neck and shoulder, blinking rapidly. 

“I know, Fe. I’ll talk to someone soon.”

“It’s not my place, I know, but… it’s been three years, Hyunjin; yet sometimes it still affects you as if it happened last week. I’m worried about you,” Felix says, taking in Hyunjin’s heavy eye bags and the way his body slumps against Felix's own. 

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are,” Felix whispers. “Do you want to skip practise today; go home and rest a little, make an appointment with your counsellor for sometime this week?” 

Hyunjin pauses, before shaking his head. “No. I’ll make an appointment, but I need to stay here today. Please… it’s some semblance of normality. Like a distraction,” he explains, and Felix nods in understanding just as Jeongin and Changbin enter loudly, swinging their backpacks about in solitude and greeting Felix and Hyunjin cheerfully, causing the two to pull apart; topic over.

Seungmin’s confused, to say the least. It’s been three years since he died, he knows this: but Hyunjin is still so grief-stricken after three years? There’s no way the two couldn’t be talking about him. 

Three years and Hyunjin’s still grieving… it must be awful for him. The words ring in Seungmin’s head like drums;  _ it’s still affecting you as though it happened last week. _ Seungmin shivers, and it’s then that he makes up his mind: he may not want it to happen, but he  _ is _ dead now, someway or another- if it’s the last thing he does, he’s going to help Hyunjin move on and bring meaning back into his life again. 

***

The next day, Seungmin watches as Hyunjin blinks awake, and feels a pang in his chest as the first thing the human reaches for is his photo frame, once more. Not his phone, or his water bottle: his first priority is to lay, once more, gazing at that forsaken photo. Seungmin wants to take it from his fingers and replace it with something else; Felix, the dog from Hyunjin’s home screen; anything. It takes five minutes for Hyunjin to put the photo away and finally pick up his phone: reading the time,  **_7:39,_ ** and getting up to shower. Whilst he showers, Seungmin sits on his bed, not wanting to invade his privacy any more than he can help, and runs his hands over the duvet, still warm from Hyunjin’s body. 

It’s strange, he thinks, how he can physically touch objects, but not humans, now that he’s on earth. Touching Hyunjin’s phone is no problem, but Hyunjin goes straight through him, as if he were a ghost- which, in some ways, he supposes he  _ is _ . It’s a hard thing to get used to, really.

Hyunjin emerges from the bathroom; the mirror is steamed up through the door, which he leaves open, and his hair drips onto the carpet beneath his feet as he moves around his bedroom searching for his desired choice of clothes. Seungmin is surprised to find that he can see his own reflection: or rather, the shadow of it, in the mirror, if he stands in the doorway. 

He feels a tiny jolt as Hyunjin walks directly through him and back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him again once he has a change of clothes to change into. Seungmin sighs, and goes to sit back on the bed, noting how it dips beneath his weight as he swings his legs and waits for Hyunjin to return. 

The elder does, after a few minutes, and Seungmin stands up quickly, not wanting to spook Hyunjin with his butt-dip on the bed and have him think somebody’s in his apartment without him knowing. Hyunjin hums a happy tune to himself as he folds his towel before putting it inside his washing basket- a strange habit- before he stops to sit on the bed again, in the same place Seungmin had occupied just moments before. 

  
  


Seungmin only has one memory of his life with Hyunjin, but this experience alone is enough to last him with enough happiness for the rest of his eternity as an angel. 

Hyunjin doesn’t talk to himself for the rest of his time in the apartment that morning; instead he sings, alternating between songs and hums of different melodies that seem to make the very air around Seungmin stand on end with energy. He sways his hips as he walks, moving about to the tune, and even waves his hands about in some instances, full-body grooving to the music playing in his head. 

It’s a beautiful sight to behold, and Seungmin wonders if he ever had the chance to see Hyunjin in such a carefree, happy state when he had been alive.

The human in question, now fully dressed and ready for the day, suddenly glances down at his phone and curses as he sees the time. 

“Of course I’m late again,” he hisses, and picks up his backpack, speed-walking out of the apartment and slamming the door behind him. 

_ It’s a good thing I can walk through walls, _ Seungmin thinks to himself wryly, following suit and using his angel-given ability to grant miracles in order to get himself through the thick wood of the door and follow Hyunjin’s trail downstairs. 

As Seungmin predicted, Hyunjin goes straight to work, right back to the dance studio he walked to last night, except this time he  _ runs _ , his bag bouncing against his hip as he weaves through the morning rush of people making their own ways into work. Seungmin follows with ease; allows his wings to carry him alongside the elder as he watches the ground in front of Hyunjin’s rapid steps, watching out for any stray dogs that could be tripping hazards for the human. 

_ Whoops- _ Seungmin quickly miracles away a discarded water bottle before Hyunjin can stumble on it, telling himself it’s because he’s an angel, and that’s what angels do.

He doesn’t let himself think about the real reason behind him doing it.

And for the rest of the day Seungmin hovers, not knowing what else to do; sits up against the wall of Hyunjin’s dance studio and watches him teach. 

He watches the way Hyunjin’s body moves so fluidly, like water; how his body hits every beat and all of the notes of each song that plays when he dances in front of his classes, giving demos and leading everybody along.

He watches as Hyunjin teaches sections upon sections of songs, stepping in between pupils ranging from five to eighteen, depending on the class, and gently sets people straight; praises them for their efforts and never, ever gets frustrated or impatient.

He watches, as Hyunjin goes about doing what he was so clearly born to do, and wonders; wonders just how much about Hyunjin that his past self used to know. 

***

Weeks upon weeks pass and pile up rather quickly; still Seungmin has no idea of how to help Hyunjin. 

The weekdays are more or less spent in the same way: Hyunjin is mostly happy, and goes about his day teaching back-to-back classes at the studio, before staying behind late at night to choreograph new routines before going back home at varying times, depending on how much sleep he got the night before, and sleeping.

Sometimes, Hyunjin would pull Seungmin’s picture from the nightstand and lay staring at it; other times, he'd just look at it briefly from where it stood on the wooden surface before he closed his eyes to sleep.

But apart from these moments Hyunjin would have with Seungmin’s picture within his own bedroom, nothing else seemed to be off: he'd had no more days like the first day Seungmin had found him; hadn't mentioned anything else to his friends about it.

He was perfectly happy among his friends, and even in his own apartment he seemed every bit the happy and healthy adult that he should be. 

And as Seungmin had no prior attachment to the human apart from the burning curiosity to know more about their past relationship, and to resolve Hyunjin’s still-present grief, he was very happy to see that Hyunjin had healed remarkably these past three years. Still feeling sad about a loved one’s passing was entirely normal: Hyunjin seemed to be experiencing the normal amount of sadness, and was balancing his work and private life well. 

The weekends, too, seemed like happy times: Seungmin had quickly grown to recognise the strong love Hyunjin harbours for his friends, shown most explicitly when he’s with them and treats them to drinks, or buys them small things from shop windows he sees in passing. Small actions that show just how much he cares for and knows them.

Indeed; these weekends were by far the happiest. Hyunjin would see his friends every Saturday and Sunday; sometimes just one or two, and sometimes his entire friendship group would meet up: sometimes at apartments, and other times in karaoke rooms and the occasional bar. 

The only strange thing that Seungmin noticed was that, despite Hyunjin’s friends’ numerous attempts to make him ‘mingle’, so to say, Hyunjin would steadfastly refuse. 

“Jinnie, it’s been three years. I miss him, too, but you have to let go. It’s what he would have wanted,” Changbin coaxes, gesturing to a particularly interested-looking girl across the bar from their group. “She’s pretty, and clearly into you. Why don’t you go and talk to her?”

“I… I can’t, Bin,” Hyunjin apologises, waving a hand in rejection. “I know how long it’s been, it… it feels wrong. I really can’t. I’ll try soon, just… not today. Please.” his eyes are wide, begging even, as he pleads with his eyes for the group to leave him alone in terms of dating pressure. 

Out of sympathy or pity, Seungmin isn’t sure, but the group leave the topic alone again regardless, and Felix winds a comforting arm around Hyunjin’s shoulders as the group move on to a different conversation topic over the blasting music coming from the dance floor. 

Within the next hour, however, Hyunjin is significantly more drunk, and gives in to dancing on the dancefloor with Felix and Jeongin. He’s still beautiful even when intoxicated; eyes unfocused and body dripping with sweat, and on anyone else it might even be a slightly unbecoming sight, but to Seungmin, who watches from afar, he thinks Hyunjin still looks just as beautiful as ever.

Maybe even more so; as he’s having fun. 

Or he _is-_ up until around two hours later, when his words are slurred almost beyond recognition as he tosses back another shot out of a clear glass, slamming it back down on the bar counter as he cheers, stirring up more cheers from the people around him. 

"I'm so _drunk,"_ Hyunjin yells, and raises both arms above his head triumphantly as his eyes travel around the bar, searching for something, _someone._

"How many shots have you had?" Felix laughs, significantly less drunk than his friend, and slings a friendly arm around Hyunjin's waist. 

"I've had... one, two, three-" Hyunjin gives up counting on his fingers and tosses his hands up in the air again. "Mmmm. Many shot."

"I think it's time to get you home then, mister," Felix reprimands, already guiding Hyunjin away from the bar and its endless selection of delightful alcoholic concoctions. 

"No, wait, Fe, we left-- we left Seungmin, we gotta go get Seungmin," Hyunjin slurs, and tries to wiggle his way out of Felix's arms, back into the bar. Felix's eyes flash bright with pain, and he tightens his grip around Hyunjin's waist. 

"Seungmin... isn't at the bar anymore, Jin. Come on, let's get you home and hydrated..." Felix whispers, and Seungmin feels a lurch or regret in his chest just _watching_ it happen. Poor Hyunjin... when he realises Seungmin isn't here, period, things will go straight downhill. 

"Okay," Hyunjin bounces lightly against Felix, giggling. "Take me to my Seungminnie."

It's not until Hyunjin wakes up late the next day that he remembers what his drunk self had thought, and spends the next half hour crying into his pillow, fists curled tightly into his blankets. 

Seungmin can do nothing but watch. 

**************

It’s two months into Seungmin’s ‘mission’ that he gets another shred of information about what he was to Hyunjin when he was still alive. 

And by ‘shred’... well, you’ll find out soon enough. 

Hyunjin is going about his usual morning routine; wake up, shower and get dressed- when Seungmin happens to glance into the bathroom from where he’d been lounging, unseen, on Hyunjin’s crumpled bed sheets. 

He’s  _ sure _ what he sees is a fluke, but even after he rubs his eyes and  _ focuses _ : it’s still there. 

If he looks into the bathroom mirror- which, today, is  _ not _ steamed up like usual- there’s the very clear, and oh-so distinct image of a single red string. 

It spans from Hyunjin’s left ring finger, and stretches out behind him, to-  _ oh. _

Seungmin holds his hand up in shock, and finds that-  _ yes _ , the string is very much connected to his own ring finger, too. 

“You’re kidding me,” Seungmin mumbles, and moves his hand around in a manic wave, looking into his reflection across the two rooms and watching the string move with his hand. Of course, it doesn’t pull Hyunjin’s hand along with his own; it just stretches to accommodate the movement, but it’s more than enough for Seungmin to grant him the knowledge- 

The knowledge that they’re  _ soulmates. _

And what in the world is he meant to do about it? He’s  _ dead, _ he can’t do anything- becoming an angel is an irreversible change; he’d been told that as soon as he awoke in heaven. Once you’re an angel, there’s no going back: your memories have already been erased, you’ll never have any contact with earth for as long as you live. Which is for  _ eternity. _ _Forever_. 

So of course, Seungmin does the only logical thing he can think of: he panics. 

He’s dead; why hasn’t Hyunjin been assigned a new soulmate? Is this why Hyunjin can’t seem to move on from Seungmin- because deep down, his soul recognises that his soulmate is no longer an earthly being? 

Has Hyunjin’s grievous struggle, this entire time, unwittingly been _Seungmin’s_ _fault_?

Seungmin stares, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, at his hand, and then Hyunjin’s. It’s not visible in front of him, but there’s no mistaking it in the mirror. 

His legs have turned to jelly, so he uses his wings as leverage, flying across the room and into the bathroom with a quiet flutter of feathers, and stands behind Hyunjin as the human brushes his teeth quietly, staring at himself in the mirror. Seungmin reaches out a hand: his left hand, to touch Hyunjin’s, right where their strings meet. 

His hand goes straight through Hyunjin’s, as usual: but there’s no mistaking the sight; no trick of the light. What Seungmin sees in the mirror is  _ real _ . 

“ _ Shit, _ ” Seungmin curses, and pulls his hand away hastily when Hyunjin bends down to spit into the sink. 

Things may have just got a whole lot more complicated for the two than Seungmin had ever thought possible. 

*******

Seungmin waits until the elder is asleep that night to quietly take his phone from the nightstand and open Google.

The human had been quieter than usual before sleeping tonight: no humming or singing, and he had looked rather downcast as he forewent eating dinner in favour of stripping down to his underwear and climbing straight under the covers, falling asleep after a couple of hours of restlessness. 

The reason why- Seungmin has absolutely no idea.

Regardless- he’s watched Hyunjin unlock his phone enough times by now to know the passcode from when his thumbprint hasn’t worked, and operates the phone perfectly fine, taking care to turn the sound off and the screen brightness down as far as it will go to ensure there’ll be no pesky light or ringtones waking Hyunjin in the middle of his quest. 

**Google search:** _ how to sever a soulmate string _

It’s the only way, Seungmin feels it in his gut- and as Chan had said,  _ trust your gut. _ Well, his gut was feeling every single emotion right now, so mostly he was listening to his head; to logic. It had to work either way, right?

_ Logically, _ he knows that the only way to help Hyunjin move on would be by cutting their string. That way, Hyunjin could maybe form a soulmate bond with someone else- someone  _ living, _ and he could finally move on with his life and life it to the fullest after three years of being caught up on Seungmin. 

Maybe if Seungmin had more memories of their relationship, he’d feel more reluctant to do this: but as it were, he only had one, and had seen firsthand how much of a good person Hyunjin truly is. More than Seungmin’s own selfish wanting, Hyunjin deserved happiness in every area of life. 

**About 833,300 results.**

_ How to cut your Red String of Fate: a lonely soul’s guide, _ was the first result to pop up on the browser. Seungmin clicks on it, but instead of a tutorial on how to break your string, all that was present was a small article. 

_ Your red string of fate: in summary, it can never be broken,  _ was the final line.  _ It may get stretched and tangled, but will never break; will always lead you back to your soulmate. _

“Well,” Seungmin swiped right on the tab and cleared his recent search history before clicking Hyunjin’s phone off and sitting back on his heels, “that wasn’t helpful at all.” 

But technically- if you stretch things for long enough they’re sure to break, right? Nothing can be stretched _forever_. 

_ What if… _

Seungmin sits forward, picking up Hyunjin’s phone again and using the dark screen as a form of reflection to find where their string lay. Luckily, despite the dim lighting, he found it easily: laying across Hyunjin’s torso and attracted in the exact same place Seungmin remembered. He leans over Hyunjin’s sleeping form and takes a hold of the string wrapped around his ring finger, and  _ pulls. _

He pulls and pulls; keeps pulling for a good few minutes. A thin sheen of sweat breaks out on his head from the effort, and he even tries to lean back, putting his entire body weight into the effort to  _ break the string, _ but it holds fast, not showing any signs of weakness or even coming close to breaking or even fraying. 

“ARGH,” Seungmin’s hands slip from their sweaty grip on the string and he falls back silently and  _ harshly _ onto his butt on the hard floor. “Ow…”

Hyunjin sits up suddenly, jolting from his slumber, and shakes his left hand in the air, as if he’d been hurt. 

“Ow, what the hell,” Hyunjin whispers, cradling his hand to his chest, and Seungmin’s heart sinks. Had he hurt Hyunjin, in trying to tear them apart? 

Hyunjin flexes his fingers, and blows on them. “Weird,” he mumbles, before flopping back onto his pillows, hair fanning out beneath his head. He grabs his phone; checks the time,  **03:19,** before sighing at the numbers on the screen and turning the device off again. 

“Happy anniversary, baby,” he whispers, and plops a pillow over his face, hiding his features from Seungmin’s view. Seungmin blinks-  _ anniversary _ ? Whose? 

Without saying another word, Hyunjin sits back up, and swings his legs off the bed, only getting out of the warm cocoon of duvets to crouch beside his bed, swiping a hand beneath it, feeling for something. Seungmin blinks  _ again _ , watching, waiting- as Hyunjin pulls out a tattered shoebox with the lid just barely holding itself together out of the dusty beneath of the bed. 

Hyunjin moves to sit on his bed again, and takes the lid off the box with reverence, gazing down into the contents. 

“Happy anniversary,” he smiles, “happy six years.” 

Seungmin observes from the shadows- he really feels as if he should leave; this feels so much more intimate than anything he’s already watched Hyunjin do these past two months, and yet he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away; curiosity bubbling over like boiling water, the truth ready to scald him at any given moment.

“It’s so strange,” Hyunjin muses aloud, “I really feel like you’re here with me lately. It’s weird-  Maybe my longing has manifested in a physical form now… I suppose I’ll have to live with it for now. In a way, it’s comforting to feel your presence again.”

“I’m right here,” Seungmin tries to say, but his words fall on deaf human ears, the attempt fruitless. “Please… I’m here, Hyunjin.” 

Hyunjin chuckles to himself as tears fill his eyes; he doesn’t bother to blink them away. “Hwang Hyunjin, you’re being ridiculous.” 

_ No, you’re not. _

Hyunjin can  _ sense _ him, somehow- how does Seungmin communicate to him that he’s  _ there _ ? Such an impossible task- yet Chan’s words echo in his head,  _ trust your gut. _ And right now, Seungmin’s gut is telling him that he  _ has _ to make his presence known. 

But what can he do? He can’t touch Hyunjin-- but wait, he can touch everything else. What if he- 

It’s worth a try if he moves something, right? 

Throwing all other thoughts out of his mind, Seungmin approaches the bed and throws the corner of the duvet to one side, the movement catching Hyunjin’s attention immediately. Hyunjin jumps up, almost falling over his own legs, and makes a high-pitched sound of shock in his throat. 

“What the  _ fuck _ ,” he whispers, and Seungmin immediately regrets the amount of fear he’s caused to be written all over Hyunjin’s face. 

“There’s no way- oh my god, this is gonna sound so  _ stupid-  _ but… Seungmin?” Hyunjin speaks again, and Seungmin chokes… again. He’s gotta stop this before it becomes a habit. 

“Seungmin?” Hyunjin whispers again, barely audible; more of a breath than anything, and fear fills his eyes. Seungmin stands there, frozen, waiting-

What is he supposed to  _ do? _

Another experimental flick of the duvet corner has Hyunjin gasping, and he scampers to the edge of the bed again, scrambling to his knees as he looks at the corner of the duvet Seungmin has pinched between his fingers. 

“I’m going crazy…” Hyunjin mutters. “Go big or go home, I guess.... Seungmin, is that you?” his voice trembles with a cacophony of emotions, and Seungmin freezes, remembering his angelic rules. 

_ No contact with humans whatsoever. _

Well- Seungmin supposes he’s already broken  _ that _ particular rule from his very first day here.

Chan had said the rules could be bent, though… What was Seungmin  _ supposed _ to do? Trust his gut? Because at this very second, his gut is way too full of conflict to be listened to. 

“Oh my god… uh, move the duvet twice if you’re Seungmin?” Hyunjin speaks shakily, and once more, Seungmin ignores all logic to move the duvet again. 

He’s confirmed his presence to Hyunjin… he can definitely kiss his angelic status goodbye. 

“Oh my god-” Hyunjin repeats again, and tears start streaming down his face within seconds. “Seungmin? Oh my life, I  _ really _ hope I’m not going crazy right now- it’s literally three in the morning… I’m just sleep deprived, right?”

_ You’re not, _ Seungmin thinks,  _ you’re perfectly fine.  _

“What do I  _ do _ ?” Hyunjin whispers, and bunches the duvet in his own hands as they form fists around the fabric. Seungmin tugs at his own handful and Hyunjin gasps again, as if the physicality of it confirmed that what he saw was real. He tugs back, and suddenly, they’re in some form of a tug-of-war, a give and take of pulling against each other on the duvet. Seungmin grins widely, full of joy he hasn’t felt for these three years put together, even if Hyunjin can’t see it. 

“I promised my counsellor that I’d look at these more often… she told me it would help accept that you’re really gone,” Hyunjin whispers, running featherlight fingers over the items piled carefully into the cardboard container, “but technically, you’re still here. How is this even going to work, now? I’ll have to start afresh…” he stops to chuckle again, wiping at his eyes. “Minnie, I really,  _ really _ hope I’m not talking to myself right now. I just wanted one more day with you… one day, so I could say goodbye.” 

One by one, Hyunjin takes out pieces of paper; items of jewelry and tiny keepsakes: keyrings and handheld plushies. But above all, the photos are the most prominent: most of them are portrait-scale; Hyunjin clearly had most of the phone-taken photos printed professionally. 

And one by one, as Hyunjin places them down, Seungmin lays a hand on each, feeling the memories crash back into his mind and resurface, loud and emotional; each date they had, and suddenly he remembers  **everything** \- not just from the photos, but he remembers his  _ life _ , his friends, his hobbies and his family as well as Hyunjin and their relationship- and, the truth hitting him all at once like a truck at full force, he remembers how he died. 

\--

**He had been on the way to a date with Hyunjin, Seungmin remembers. It was their three year anniversary, and Seungmin was holding Hyunjin’s favourite flowers in his hand: he’d had to drive all the way to the other end of the city to find a shop that sold them. It was simple, but he and Hyunjin always did like to keep things that way, and enjoy the little things.**

**Their plan had been to meet in town, and walk about for a while, enjoying each other’s company before dining at a restaurant that had opened up recently, before retreating back to Hyunjin’s apartment, where Seungmin would spent the night, wrapped up in the arms of the love of his life.**

**It had been a foolproof anniversary plan- before Seungmin had realised too late that his shoes had become untied, and he tripped, right in the middle of the road, into an incoming car.**

**Everything from there was a blur: he remembers screaming, and hitting the ground; and from there all he could see was darkness; feeling faint, like he was just barely tethered to his physical body.**

**Even to his last moments, Hyunjin had been there, holding his hand, whispering to him,** **_come back, come back to me._ **

**But Seungmin hadn’t been strong enough, and had passed away just half an hour later, in the hospital; the last thing he ever felt being Hyunjin’s warm hand squeezing his own as he lay on the hospital bed, breathing his last breaths through an oxygen mask that had been fitted tightly to his face.**

  
  


\--

  
  


Three stray tears fall, unbidden, onto the photos laid out on Hyunjin’s bed, and that’s Seungmin’s breaking point: this whole situation is so cruel,  _ why did he have to die so early, why can’t he comfort his own soulmate, why was he sent here in the first place- _

Seungmin  _ loves _ Hyunjin. 

It’s painfully clear; the feeling throbbing in his chest that’s only grown since his first day back on Earth. A fierce fire burns in his heart, for Hyunjin and Hyunjin alone, burning the same red colour as the string that connects their fingers in the Soul Realm. 

In these memories: the ones from the photos, the keepsakes and the literal  _ rest of his life _ that just came crashing back down into his mind-  _ fuck _ , why is fate so cruel?

And honestly,  _ fuck _ Hyunjin not being able to feel him right now, because  _ nothing _ is going to stop him trying his damned hardest to comfort the sobbing man in front of him: the memories he’s just experienced all at once have completely broken him and if there’s not a way to comfort the love of his life- and afterlife-  _ right now _ , he fears he may actually combust and disappear forever. 

“I’m here,  _ please, _ ” Seungmin yells, fists pounding against the headboard but making no audible sound. “I love you…” He wraps his arms around Hyunjin’s back but gets no reaction; lays his head on Hyunjin’s head, feeling his fluffy hair against his cheeks-  _ wait. _

_ Seungmin can feel Hyunjin… he  _ **_didn’t fall straight through him_ ** _.  _

Does that mean-

Hyunjin jolts forward, screaming ear-splittingly loudly in pure terror at the feeling of a body against his. He jumps up and turns around, fists clenched and ready to throw a punch at whichever intruder had somehow broken into his apartment when-

_ “Seungmin? _ ” he whispers, not trusting his eyes at all anymore. 

“Hyunjin?” Seungmin whispers back, voice thick with tears but not physically daring to move a single muscle. “Jinnie?” 

“Seungmin?” Hyunjin seems unable to say anything else as he approaches Seungmin with tiny steps, extending just one hand. “What-”

“I’m here, baby,” Seungmin promises, meeting Hyunjin’s hand halfway and encasing it within both of his own. “This is real. You’ve not gone crazy, I promise you.”

“How…”   
  


“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here, I promise you I’m here.” Seungmin squeezes Hyunjin’s hand tightly, and that’s what breaks the dam again, and Hyunjin flings himself into Seungmin’s arms, sobbing so hard it wracks his entire body. 

“Seungminnie,” he cries, arms wrapping tighter than Seungmin thought possible around the younger’s neck. “But- but you’re  _ dead- _ ”

“It’s a long story, believe me,” Seungmin chuckles, running a hand through Hyunjin’s long hair, “but I’m here, and I’m alive, and I’m real. I  _ promise _ you, my love.” 

“It’s impossible,” Hyunjin whispers, “please… please show me I’m not dreaming.” 

Hyunjin has already pulled away as he says this, his face right in front of Seungmin’s and the fallen angel knows exactly what Hyunjin is asking for; he surges forward, connecting their lips in a searing kiss that neither have felt these past three years at all. Hyunjin whimpers in the back of his throat; his fingers make their way into Seungmin’s hair and tighten there, as if he’s really  _ feeling _ Seungmin again; making sure he’s really there. 

Seungmin licks along Hyunjin’s bottom lip and bites down gently, but enough for Hyunjin to  _ feel _ his teeth there, feel the wetness of his tongue in tandem with their lips that slot together like puzzle pieces. Hyunjin goes lax in his arms, and Seungmin can feel him melting against him. 

“You’re real,” is the first thing Hyunjin says once they catch their breath after pulling away  _ just enough _ to draw air. “Oh my goodness… Baby, you’re here…”

“I’m here,” the words are repeated again like a mantra. “I became an angel… but Fate gave us a second chance.”

“My angel,” Hyunjin whispers, and presses their foreheads together as he cradles Seungmin’s face in his hands. “My angel, my Seungmin… I’ve missed you so, so incredibly much.”

“I know, love,” Seungmin soothes, “I know. I’ve missed you too… so much. So, so much.”

“But you’re here now,” Hyunjin breathes, “and now… that’s all that matters.”

**

“...So technically, now you’re a fallen angel?” Hyunjin asks, taking a swig of water from his water bottle before offering the same bottle to Seungmin, whose mouth is now dry from explaining everything to Hyunjin. It’s eleven in the morning: neither boy has left the bed since their reunion, and Hyunjin had already scheduled a day off work, originally because their anniversary- and Seungmin’s death anniversary- had been too much for Hyunjin to bear yet. But, of course, now it worked perfectly in their favour: they have a full day to do nothing but snuggle and make up for lost time.

Here they are, impossibly reunited, and they haven’t left each other’s arms in eight hours. 

“I guess so?” Seungmin theories as he wipes a stray drop of water from his lips, screwing the bottle cap shut. “I mean, I no longer have wings, and you can see me again, so I’m guessing my angel status has been revoked.”

Hyunjin giggles, happy and carefree and so much  _ bubblier _ than Seungmin can ever remember hearing it in the past two months he’d been observing Hyunjin for. 

“You’re not an angel anymore… but you’re  _ my _ angel,” he says, cheesily, and presses his face into the crook of Seungmin’s neck, leaving tiny butterfly kisses there that make Seungmin’s stomach flutter in response. 

He might have quite literally resurrected in some way and has just got hold of his memories again, but Seungmin feels  _ whole _ again. With his memories, and his Hyunjin, he’s found who he is again… he feels  _ real. _

And of course, it’s not completely smooth sailing from there onwards. It’s been three years since the two were tragically torn apart- they’ve both undergone changes; they have both changed; will both need to get to know each other again; familiarise themselves with each other’s new cracks and dips and gaps to fill. 

But they’re connected nevertheless; they’re made for each other, and they both know that it’ll be alright. 

Because Seungmin has literally been through death and back, and came back just for Hyunjin. 

He supposes that when he dies again, for real next time- he’ll _definitely_ be thanking Chan for this second chance. 

**Author's Note:**

> *sits in corner* did i do the angst correctly
> 
> listen it makes me sad to write angst so this made me Emotional so i hope i redeemed the sadness by the end where we got that good ol' fluff!
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed <3 remember that you're so, so loved, and you're all absolutely incredible. remember to drink water today, and get enough rest because your body needs it! much love<3


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